


Memories of the Phoenix

by Pretending2BeMe



Category: The Grand Tour (TV) RPF, Top Gear (UK) RPF
Genre: M/M, Memories, Other, Post Fracas - Pre GT, Supernatural Elements
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-02-10
Updated: 2017-02-10
Packaged: 2018-09-23 05:38:13
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 4,437
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9642920
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Pretending2BeMe/pseuds/Pretending2BeMe
Summary: Jeremy's whole life is screwed and he's looking for reassurance - if only there was someway he could know what was to come...





	1. Tonight (Part One)

**Author's Note:**

> RL has taken me away here for far too long but finally I'm back, and I give you this. I feel like it's three stories in one but it's definitely weird. Just jump down the rabbit hole and go with it. I was originally planning a GT fic but this one wouldn't go away (It's sat unfinished for an age). Hopefully, this might have got *that* out of my system - who knows? Anyway, I hope you like it.
> 
> *For those that are interested, Chapter Three takes place in the same universe as Scotch and Ovaltine. Oh and it's J/A because I say so.

Andy was doing his best not to rant but fuck, it was hard.  Through all the shit of the last months he’d stayed calm – it was the snapping of the final straw and he knew it damn well.  He was surprised that they’d all survived the pressure cooker for so long but now, four months after _that,_ he found himself pacing the floor of Jeremy’s front room barely able to hold himself together.

He was no stranger to Jeremy’s attitude but this was ridiculous! “How on earth can you be so blasé about it all?” he all but squealed.

Jeremy, sat in his favourite armchair with feet propped on the coffee table and bottle of beer in his hand, just shrugged, “I’ve already said; something will turn up, it always does.”

Stalking around from the back of the sofa to the front, Andy ran his hand down his face, sighed heavily and gritted his teeth, “In case it had escaped your notice, we are all out of work, the world’s camped outside your door either baying for your blood or demanding your next move and I’m, as usual, up to my neck trying to sort it in to some sort of order and all you can say is, _Something will turn up_!”

“Relaaax!”

Not wanting to risk exploding, Andy gritted his teeth harder and flexed his hands in and out of fists and just _looked_ – the same look that he’d been giving for over half his life; the look that said _everything_.

Jeremy took a swig of his beer and grinned, “Andrew, will you for once in your life, trust me. I know without a shadow of a doubt that everything will be fine.”

With eyes practically burning into the centre of Jeremy’s head, Andy managed to ask the question that he was convinced had no answer, “How?”

Planting his feet onto the carpet, Jeremy leant forward in his chair, rested his arms between his knees and said, “I saw her.”

All of Andy’s anger and frustration flooded out of him to be replaced by ice and every last drop of strength he had vanished. All he could do was flop on the sofa and try not to be sick.  He knew that for Jeremy it was a good thing but for him it was the exact opposite.  Being it was one thing – watching it was quite another.

After a few minutes of his heart hammering in his chest and bile fighting in his throat, he managed to focus on Jeremy, “Her as in… _Her_?” was all he could say.

Jeremy just nodded.

Andy sighed the sigh of the dead, lit a cigarette and whispered, “Tell me.”


	2. Last Night (Part One)

Jeremy shut the door to his study and leant against it with a sigh. He’d spent the last couple of weeks having a bit of a clear-out and a tidy up; attempting to bring some sort of order to the small room – and if he was honest; his life.  For the most part he happily lived with the teetering piles of newspapers, press releases and other highly important self-scribbled notes that surrounded his desk.  He was easily able to ignore the umpteen coffee mugs, empty cigarette packets and overflowing ashtrays that he collected along the way but every so often the chaos and detritus would get too much and he’d have a blitz.  And that was where he found himself now, on a rainy Sunday night inside the pristine room with only one job left to do.  One that he’d been avoiding for days. The hardest job of all…

Crossing the room, he flicked on the desk lamp and lit himself a cigarette; there in front of him on the almost empty table was the offending article, the thing he’d been ignoring.

_Fuck it!_

Turning away, Jeremy walked over to the window to stare out over the rain-soaked street. The night was tinted orange by the street lamps and the odd car swished past, throwing up puddles in their wake.  As he watched and smoked, a memory of an equally wet and cold night of many years past flashed through his mind.  It was a weekend trip that had gone awry where he and Andy found themselves locked out of the guest house and sheltering from the biggest storm for decades in a train station waiting-room with nothing but one thin jacket and half a bottle of Scotch between them. _Ha! Those were the days…_

Returning briefly to his desk, he stubbed out his cigarette in the ashtray. Unable to avoid _the thing_ , he scowled at it and decided that pretence was the way forward.  Kidding himself into believing that it wasn’t there and he wasn’t dealing with it, he returned to the window. This time however, he wasn’t interested in what lay outside the glass, but what lay below it. Easing himself down onto the floor he crossed his legs and took a moment to look over the item in front of him.

Underneath the window, indenting the carpet sat the heavy, wooden trunk of his schooldays. With its domed lid and inlaid metal slats, it contained a thousand memories and was one of only a handful of possessions that Jeremy could truly never bear to part with.  Running his fingers over the four indented initials, he smiled as he remembered his dad carving them in the day before he left home.  Glancing down to the bottom corner, he spotted the dented scuff that he’d kicked into it on his last day when his expulsion had been confirmed. Peppered over the rest of the wood were hundreds of little divots and scratches that he or Andy had made during its main time of use.  It might have been battered and bruised; it might have had a million things thrown at it and it had been stood on, punched and generally brutalised in its time but it was still useful and it still survived.

_There’s a metaphor, right there_ , thought Jeremy as he flicked the two metal catches.

Lifting the lid, he closed his eyes and inhaled deeply, breathing in the all too familiar scent of old wood, tobacco and oddly, sugar. At the time he’d hated the heavy fruit cakes that his mum would bake for him, choosing instead to trade them with the other boys for better things like toffees, cigarettes and copies of _Autosport_ magazine - and once even a 7” single – but as the sweetness hit the back of his throat, a pang rose in him and Jeremy longed for the sickly syrup taste just one last time.

Dipping his hand into the random assortment of things contained within, he pulled out the first thing he touched – an envelope of ancient Polaroid’s. Once opened, a smile started to play on his lips that grew into a grin as he rifled through yellowed images of a New Years Eve party in the early eighties. _God, we were all so young_ Jeremy thought as he gazed at the drunken pile of grinning idiots that gazed back at him across time.

Replacing them on the top of the pile, Jeremy spotted something blue under a half-dead notebook. Easing it out gently, he laughed as the flattened remains of a soft-pack of Gauloises came into view. Carefully peeling the pack open to reveal three never-to-be smoked cigarettes, Jeremy inhaled the heady scent deeply and remembered the French camping holiday of his youth where he spent his days in the blistering heat with a camera slung around his neck like a poor man’s David Bailey and his nights laid in a field smoking these very cigarettes and ruminating on the universe like he was bloody Sartre _What a pretentious arse I was!_

The whole trunk was full of good but random memories – more assorted notebooks rammed full of ideas,  a single button from the first pair of Levi’s he’d ever owned (the story of how that got ripped off was pure embarrassment that still made Jeremy cringe all these years later), a small Dinky car with most of the paint chipped off and the teeth marks of a dog on the roof, a beer mat with the long-dead phone number for Susan – _ah, what a weekend that had been…_ endless gossamer-thin ticket stubs to gigs that had been life and death at the time, more random photos of crazy days and crazy people, a set of keys to the first car he bought brand new – he knew he’d made it when the salesman called him Sir and showed him the options list instead of dismissing him like some time-waster.

Although the millions of memories were happy ones, Jeremy still couldn’t shake off the feelings of dread and unhappiness he’d been carrying with him for months. For all the certainty of the past, the future was not so. That was until his hand hit upon a half-full box of Swan Vesta matches.

Gasping as his brain registered what they were; Jeremy reeled back in his seat and swore.  He hadn’t given _that_ a single thought but there it was, laid bare in his hand. Of course, he should have realised, it – _she_ – always made an appearance when things were bad but in the midst of it all, he’d simply forgotten.

Suddenly in desperate need of air, Jeremy tossed the matches back in the trunk, rose from the floor and returned once more to the window.  Flinging it open as wide as it would go, he sucked the cold air into his lungs in gulps.

After a few minutes, his breathing slowed back to its normal rate and he rested his head on the window frame.  As he calmed, he began to feel the tell-tale tingle on the back of his neck and he allowed himself to once more be transported back into his past…


	3. The First Night

Almost forty years ago on a night as damp and chilly as the one he’d just left, Jeremy stood, much as he was now, leant against a window frame, watching as smoke filled the air and flames lit up the sky.

He was in the dorm-room at school, stood next to Andy who was balanced on the lid of his trunk for a better view out of the high window, watching in awe as the fire blazed away at the old barn far down in the out-of-bounds area known, rather blandly, as Bottom Field.  They watched as the flames grew higher and higher, wider and wider, hotter and hotter as they devoured the ancient timber and the dry straw within.

It was the biggest fire that Jeremy had ever seen and it was mesmerising. Although they had spent the last half hour laughing almost to the point of hysteria as the scene unfolded, Jeremy was well aware of the doom that hung over their heads. More than a telling off, more than a beating from the Head, more than their mothers being called, more than all of that was coming their way and Jeremy wished with all his heart that he could do something to stop it. Under the surface of the excitement, the glee and the laughter, Jeremy knew their future was looking very bleak indeed. Swallowing down the panic that threatened him, he allowed himself to be drawn into the flames whilst he longed for an answer.

As he watched, he began to feel something that he would never be able to adequately explain. A tingle started to appear on the back of his neck and he felt a lightness in his feet. As his stomach churned and realisation set in, Jeremy made a vain grab for Andy’s arm but there was not a damn thing he could do as he rose from the wooden floor and flew out of the window.

Hovering there for a second, he turned his head back the way he’d came to see Andy staring back at him, mouth wide and eyes even wider.  He should have been scared to death but inexplicably he felt the exact opposite.  Full of misunderstood bravery, he shrugged nonchalantly at his friend and turned back towards the fire.  Soon enough, the flames began to pull at him and he found himself moving onward towards them.

He floated across the courtyard, over the tennis courts and the three fields.  Onward he floated, powerless to resist the flames that grew ever closer.

Reaching Bottom Field, he stilled to hover once more.  Feeling none of the intense heat that was mere inches from his body and totally oblivious to the chaos of fireman and teachers below him, Jeremy sucked in huge lungfulls of the wet, smoky air as his eyes focussed in close, almost to the individual flames themselves.

He saw not just the randomness of burning fuel and oxygen but symbols, words, faces of people and animals, both real and myth.  He watched as the devil danced with a rabbit, as Pan played the flute and his maths teacher was eaten by a cow.  He saw ancient monks with torches marching sideways, dogs chasing fish and the best motor race he’d ever seen littered with AC Cobra’s, GT’s, Maserati’s and more.  The more he watched, the more he saw and to Jeremy, time had ceased to be, it’s very fabric melted away into the fire; there was nothing except the smoke and the flames and those that lived within.

Jeremy felt so close and so connected to the fire and yet one thing puzzled him, why could he not feel it? He felt none of the heat, none of the sparks zipping at his jumper, none of the flames stretching for the socks on his feet and the denim on his legs.  He could see it all and yet he couldn’t feel it. All he felt was bravery and brutal strength to cope with what was surly round the round the corner. That and the damn tingle at his neck!

Without warning, the scene changed as an enormous crash filled the air.  For a second, the blaze dipped in on itself like a giant ‘V’, paused briefly and then disappeared entirely as the roof of the barn collapsed, giant splinters falling to the floor far below.

Looking into the newly created hole, Jeremy watched the flames flare towards him before quickly easing to form a glowing carpet from which something began to grow.

Blinking a few times, Jeremy checked himself but no, it was true, it was really there far below him.  The more he watched the more it grew; starting life as a nameless shape it gradually grew into something with more form.  He continued to watch as an animal - or a creature at any rate – grew from the flames. First the body appeared; round and plump with shimmering feathers, then the head with it its long beak and beady, reddish eyes and then the beginnings of something as yet unknown forming from its spine. He couldn’t see the feet but he was certain that they were there somewhere.  Lifting its head, the creature blinked at Jeremy.

The intensity of it’s gaze made Jeremy’s heart skip and all the breath in his body flew from him in a rush that he couldn’t stop and the tingle exploded all over his body like white hot needles.  It was as if the creature had seen into his very soul.  It had read him like a very easy and very open book; it knew all of his secrets and all those yet to come.  In that split second, Jeremy knew that it had seen back into his past and right into his sprawling future.  He didn’t know it at the time but the two were connected, no, _intertwined_ forever.

Unable to take his eyes off the creature, Jeremy watched as she – he was certain it was a _‘She’_ -broke eye-contact to dip her head down towards the floor to concentrate on gathering up the flames at her feet and pouring them over her back.  Almost immediately, she began to shake, softly at first but growing in speed and violence until Jeremy feared she might be in pain. 

Feeling oddly protective, Jeremy stretched his hand down to try and offer some comfort but, of course, she was too far down for him to reach so he just sort of stroked the space between them in the hope that it was enough.

As his hand flowed back and forth through the air, Jeremy noticed that the tingle had stopped flowing through him and was concentrated in his fingertips. It was maddening but Jeremy didn’t dare move. After a time, it slowly began to travel along his arm to the back of his neck and along his other arm and Jeremy realised that he could feel what the creature was feeling – no pain only the creation of something new.

She was communicating with him, letting him know that she was safe; that good things were coming.  Jeremy briefly wondered why she’d chosen him but that became irrelevant as the intense needles grew through his arms and he finally knew what was happening.  It wouldn’t be long now…

Spreading his arms wide, Jeremy silently willed her on.  His thoughts growing louder and louder in his head until every muscle in his body was stretched taught and, through gritted teeth he was practically yelling at her to succeed.

Just when he thought he might explode with all the tension, the creature stilled, gave a flick of her head and shot straight upwards into the damp, dark, smoky sky.  Spreading her newly- formed wings as wide as they could go, she flapped them slow and deep.

The sight was the most majestic thing that Jeremy had ever witnessed and it straight took his breath away.  With his heart hammering in his chest, he drank in the vision in front of him.

None of this should be happening, it was impossible insanity but he knew with every fibre of his being that it was 100% true for there, hovering ahead of him was a bird made totally of shimmering fire. Her head was raised, exposing her exquisitely formed neck; her broad chest was pushed forward showing the soft down, her large were feet pulled up close to her body and her wings spread wide highlighting each individual feather.  She was showing off and they both knew it. _Why shouldn’t you_ , _you amazing thing, you_ thought Jeremy, instantly cringing at the inadequacy of his words. Thankfully, the creature understood and flicked her head in acknowledgement.

For the second time that night, the creature looked Jeremy directly in the eye and Jeremy knew instantly that everything was going to be alright. As she stared down at him, he felt the answer he’d been seeking fall into him, fully formed and cogent. Absolute calm and reassurance filled his very soul and although his earlier feelings of dread were well founded, he knew he could weather the storm.

Wriggling her right wing slightly, the creature let one small feather drop and float down to Jeremy and as it landed softly in his hand, Jeremy knew that she leaving him but he also knew that he would see her again if he ever needed her.

Gently slipping it into his pocket, Jeremy smiled as she flicked her head one last time and soared into the night sky.

Blinking, Jeremy found himself back at the window frame with Andy by his side still standing on his trunk.  Neither of them spoke – they didn’t need to, the look between them was enough – they just stood together in silence for a few minutes, looking out across the field to the slowly dying fire.

After a while, Jeremy slid his hand into the pocket of Andy’s Levi’s to remove the matches.

It wasn’t until two summers later when the dust had long settled and the world had returned to normal that he brought them out again. He and Andy were sat on the roof of his car looking at the stars and feeling the peace when, without a word he placed to yellow box into Andy’s hand. 

Knowing that words would never be enough, Andy just smiled and slid the box open. Seeing the golden feather laid gently upon the matches, he looked up and whispered, “She’s yours, Jez; all yours.” Slipping the box closed, he replaced it in Jeremy’s hand and squeezed.


	4. Last Night (Part Two)

Coming back to the present, the quiver at Jeremy’s neck told him that she was close. He could count on the fingers of one hand the number of times that she’d returned to him. It didn’t matter where in the world he was, she always found him and she’d always shown him the way – the right way.

Leaning sideways, he grabbed his cigarettes from the desk.  Lighting one up, he returned to the window and waited, inhaling the smoke and the damp of the night slow and deep.  He tried not to get impatient but it was so hard; he needed answers to so many things – least of all _the thing on the desk_ but what to do next and he wished she’d hurry up and show him.

As he smoked, he could feel the needles at his neck grow in strength and it was all he could do to keep still.  Even after all these years, Jeremy still treated her with a sort of calm reverence – it just didn’t do to be so _Clarkson_ around her and he struggled to rein himself in. He knew that she accepted him for everything that he was and wasn’t – they were indelibly linked after all – but that wasn’t the point; she was special and he, well, _wasn’t._

Eventually, the wind outside his window picked up, sending the leaves on the trees into a frenzy and whipping the puddles into small whirlpools.  Looking up into the rain-grey sky, Jeremy saw her coming over the horizon.

She swooped in waves through the night and whirled in large circles over the houses, her golden shimmer growing stronger and brighter as she approached.  Jeremy smiled at her show – perhaps they weren’t so different after all- and let her come to him.

Once she was close enough, she stilled to hover in front of Jeremy and nodded her greeting.  Forgetting himself, Jeremy winked his hello and instantly regretted it.  She didn’t seem to mind however, and she pushed out her broad chest and flicked the tips of her wings as if she was flirting with him.

They never spoke in words – she was beyond that – but Jeremy asked his questions anyway.

Cocking her head to one side, she listened intently to the silent pleas that Jeremy sent her.  When he’d finished, she spread her wings wide and rose high into the air, causing a stab of panic in Jeremy – he thought she’d grown tired of his whining and was leaving him with his questions unanswered.

Shaking her head, Jeremy could feel the half laugh in her, admonishing him for such thoughts – _Patience, Jeremy; Patience_.  Holding herself still far above him, she flapped slowly once more and the dark sky instantly flashed from almost black to lightening white and all Jeremy’s fears melted away as she showed him what was to come.

She’d never done that before – actually projected his future in front of him like a film – she usually just sent him emotions or single words that had meaning as time moved on but Jeremy supposed that this time it was different.  This time he really was adrift in his own skin and he needed something more solid to hold on to.

Jeremy couldn’t help the huge grin from escaping over his face and he voicelessly shrieked his thanks to her across the expanse of space.

He didn’t think it was possible for her to smile but he was certain that she did.  She emanated her genuine pleasure at his childish reaction and at his newly restored happiness in a way that only Jeremy could know and never describe.

Once Jeremy had calmed, she flapped her wings once more and returned the night sky to its normal, drizzly self.   With no further need for her presence, she nodded her farewell. Spinning perfectly on one foot, she made sure that Jeremy was watching her last dance before pirouetting straight up and on to who knew where.

With a sigh, Jeremy nodded his own goodbye to the now still night and quietly closed the window.

With his newly found knowledge, Jeremy saw the _thing_ for what it was – it wasn’t to be dreaded, it was a memory to be kept safe and nurtured along with all the others.

Returning to his desk, he ran his hand over the stapled sheets of paper and carefully read the title, _Top Gear – Episode 176._   Yes, it was over but it wasn’t an ending – it was just a pause in proceedings.

Reaching to the shelf above him, Jeremy pulled a box-file from where it was now neatly stored. Flipping it open, he slid the script onto the top of the pile and, running his fingers down the page once more, he closed the lid for the final time.


	5. Tonight (Part Two)

Andy leant forward and took the beer from Jeremy’s hand, gulping down the last third in one mouthful. He always found that he couldn’t look at Jeremy for a while after her visits – it was if he could see her in his eyes, looking at him, into him, reading him – she wasn’t the only one that was linked to Jeremy for life - and it always left him deeply unsettled; which was why he now busied himself with picking at the label of the bottle.

After a few minutes of silence, Jeremy lit a cigarette and passed his lighter across to Andy who was fumbling for his own.  It always amused him how bothered he was about her and he couldn’t help laughing, “Even after all these years she still shits you up, doesn’t she.”

Andy didn’t say anything; he just lit his cigarette and looked at his feet.

“Do you want to know what she showed me?”

Andy always wanted to know the details – if you could know what was to come, wouldn’t you want to? - but he’d never had the stomach for it so he just shook his head and sucked on his cigarette.  Eventually though, he did manage to ask, “Is it good?”

Before Jeremy could answer, however, Andy’s phone rang, making him jump.  “Who the fuck is ringing me at this bloody time of night?” he howled at no one in particular.

Jeremy just sat back and smiled. _Welcome to the future, Sunshine._

The End


End file.
